Day: September 27, 2015

I grew up in the age when the fanciest camera in our family was a small box camera. I think the make was Bunny. It took twelve black and white photos. Each photo was precious. My parents were the only ones who actually took those photos. We took it along on our family vacations and shared our precious moments with it. Each film roll was rationed to last out and cover twelve precious moments over almost six months to a year. I was only allowed to click photos with that camera when there was no film in it. Each photo was precious and had to be spent to preserve only very special moments.Sometimes it would record a moment that would be embarrassing. Like the time when I wanted to click a photo of a homeless puppy that I had grown inordinately fond of. I used to speak to the puppy and give him my share of chocolates and jelly filled biscuits that came in a box marked JB Mangharam. I believed that the puppy deserved to be in our family album. My parents did not share that opinion. So I sulked and threw a tantrum for a while. After two days the peace treaty was signed. They agreed to take a photo of me minus the puppy. I decided to revolt by not smiling at the camera. Small revolutions are barely noticed.The photos would be printed and put into an album that had thick black paper on which we stuck the photos that were firmly put in place with cardboard “corners”. Once a photo was put into our album, that moment became part of our family’s history. Each photo had a story of that moment. That moment had to be accurately narrated. My parents and I would spend Sundays reliving the handful of black and white photos in our family album, but it would take a day to go through. In between the narrative would be paused as my mother went to the kitchen to make tea and pakoras. When she came back with the plate of jelly filled biscuits and pakoras, the stories would begin again. This continued till it was time to sleep. That’s what I believed. Photographs must always have stories, jelly filled biscuits and tea associated with it.By the time I went to college, we had a Yashica camera. I could not love it enough. It could capture 36 moments in each film roll. And now the photos were in color. On my birthday I asked for a color film roll that I could use to shoot whatever I wanted. I finally got to fulfill an old wish. I took several photos of my dog. My mother had relented enough to allow Peekoo in to our household, a spot that seemed often to be more privileged than mine. Peekoo being the crook that he was refused to look at the camera. I tried every trick in the book to get him to look at the camera but each time he looked away until I ran out of film. I wanted to wallop Peekoo but he had parked himself behind the sofa and was inaccessible to receive any form of violence I had to offer.Today I use my phone to click photos. Convenience wins over discretion. I wonder if having the moment accessible on my phone has made me stop working hard at preserving the moment. Do photographers ever enjoy the moment if they are only worried about getting the perfect photo.The digital cameras have created a problem of plenty. Facebook is full of hundreds of photos of someone’s dinner and everyone’s vacation. The number of photos increases exponentially depending on how special the occasion is. A regular evening with friends might mean twenty photos. A birthday celebration might mean a hundred snaps. A vacation will yield five hundred photos. A wedding will generate thousands of photos if your combine all those photos that the guests took on their phones and the ones that the professional photographers took and the sneaky selfies that did not make it to the disapproving eyes of the elders.There is no time to print the photos. That may mean having to choose from the thousands of digital photos. What’s the point of clicking a photo if you have no stories, jelly-filled biscuits and tea to go with it. That’s what photography is about.—————–Join me on Twitter @AbhijitBhaduriRead this post: The name is pronounced as Uh-Bhee-JeetPeekoo refused to be photographed. More about him <click this>